All Aboard!
by Younger Dr. Grey
Summary: Anonymous requested, soccercop Harry Potter AU in which Beth is interested in the new shy girl. All abord the Hogwarts Express. [Updated]
1. All Aboard!

**note:** cross-posted on AO3 and Tumblr, so read where you want. Links are on my profile.

* * *

They're on the train before Beth even notices her.

She walks in front of them with her trunk up on wheels like a traveller's suitcase. She's small, smaller than most of the other first years, but she seems more secure than any of them. Her little flats clack down the corridor in time with each bounce of her ponytail and swish of her head to check for open compartments. She reminds Beth a bit of herself actually, only this girl's wearing a pink headband and matching button-up shirt under a black Hogwarts robe like all of the real wizard kids.

Not that Beth's not real — er, whole — she's half, or something like that. Beth was adopted, so it's hard to know where that whole magical ability comes from for her. All she knows is that she can make magic and has been ever since the day she got into a fight with Sarah and Helena Manning when they were nine.

Beth blacked out a bit during the fight, and when she came to, the Mannings were knocked down on the ground and soaking wet. Storm clouds were above them too, but as Beth looked up, the clouds shrank down into the same white fluff balls they were before Helena called Beth a dirty copy cat. Beth had thought she'd gone bonkers until Sarah said she could do it too; so could Helena. They had sensed it about her and wanted to be friends. ("It was Helena's idea," Sarah pointed out.)

So friends they were. Still are.

Even now, Sarah and Helena lug their trunks behind Beth's as they try shoving their stuff into the luggage hatch of their compartment. It takes all three of them pushing to slam the cover down, and they all flop down onto their seats with strained breath when they're done.

Sarah breaks the silence first. "Can you believe it?" She rolls her head to the side so she can smile at Helena. "We're really going. To a bloody magic school."

"The _best_ magic school," Helena corrects.

Beth grins. Helena's been looking into Hogwarts ever since they got their letters. The one time they all found their way to Diagon Alley, Helena spent the whole trip reading that _Hogwarts: A History_ book while eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Didn't even spit out the bad tasting ones, just kept on chewing and mumbling facts out at them about how great their new home would be.

"Best one here, Helena. Doesn't mean it's the best ever," Sarah says.

Helena shakes her head. "Hogwarts trains the best witches and wizards. We will be the best, Sarah. We will grow up and have magic jobs and live in magic town with—"

"Let me guess," Sarah cuts in, her eyes gleaming playfully as she glances at Beth, "_magic_." Beth snorts. Helena pouts, so Sarah nudges their shoulders together, says, "Seriously, Helena, we get it."

Beth nods. It's not like anything's really that different in the magical world, is it? More tricks and faster delivery, but same basic stuff and boring problems, Beth's sure.

After all, they're on a train to go to a boarding school. There's still guys who bounce down the hall roaring like the lions that their house colors affirm them to be. Still girls in bright pink shirts who seem oblivious about everything else around them. Girls who sit with their attention on a book Beth can't quite make out, who scan line after line instead of waving goodbyes to a family on the platform.

Does she not have family? The girl in pink, not Beth. Is that why she's so quiet?

Everyone else in the compartment across the way seems energetic, enthusiastic to be taking off for another year away from home. A lot of them have on their house colors already, so they have to be second years at least. There's a boy with a round face and a bellowing laugh that almost reaches across the corridor; his green and silver tie has a stain on it, not that he cares, too busy spittling out bits of a sandwich when he talks.

Another boy, this one leaner with growing muscles and a haircut short enough to be military grade, flicks what must be remnants of the round boy's food off of his scarlet and gold tie.

The girl in the pink barely acknowledges them all. Like she's not even there, like she doesn't even want to be.

Maybe Beth should talk to her. Invite her over to their compartment. There's room for another, and then Beth can talk to the pink girl while Sarah talks to Helena. Then no one has to be invisible.

"Oi!"

Beth snaps her gaze back to Sarah who follows that old stare right across the hall. A little smirk rises up on Sarah's lips.

"Been on the train five minutes and you're already picking out a boyfriend? What have you done with Beth Childs?"

Beth kicks Sarah's shin. "It's not the guys." Sarah's smirk turns into a wide-eyed laugh. Beth scrambles. "No, wait, not like that! It's —" Shit. She takes a breath. Tries again, slower. "That girl over there seems miserable."

"I would too if I had those clothes on. Really, pink?"

"Sarah."

"Don't 'Sarah' me."

"_Sarah_," and this time it's Helena saying it, so the older twin shuts her mouth a second, "we should help her."

"She doesn't need help. You're both playing into that whole idea that girls can't take care of themselves. It's sickening, really."

Beth rolls her eyes. As if Sarah gives two shits about feminist leanings. She's just too lazy to actually get off her butt and do something. Fine then. Beth'll do it herself.

She lifts herself up and smoothes her hands down her slacks. They feel warm all of a sudden. And her pants probably have wrinkles in them. Should've taken Sarah's foster mom up on the offer to iron their clothes before they left. It's too late now anyway. Hopefully, the girl won't care.

Beth walks across the space to the compartment door and slides it open. She gets a foot out into the corridor before some girl with a short blonde bob cut crashes into her. It's all sharp elbows and the jab of a heel connecting with Beth's very solid toes.

"Shit!" Beth swears, at the same time as someone else — a boy — says, "Rachel?"

Beth glances to where the voice came from, but that boy's eyes are only on the person whose heel's still wedged on her toe. This chick must be Rachel. The Rachel girl grunts, shoving Beth back with manicured claws while stomping that same heeled foot into another one of Beth's toe. Another curse bubbles out of Beth, not that Rachel or her lapdog seem to notice.

The boy reaches out a hand to steady Rachel. Rachel swats at him, effectively and finally rocking herself off of Beth's feet. "Unhand me, Daniel." He does as told.

Beth grumbles, reaching down to rub her feet. She hears the compartment door moving again behind her. Knows Mama Bear Manning is probably right there waiting to start a fight on her behalf.

"I'm fine," she says without even a glance back.

"The hell you are," Sarah says with a step into the hall. She plants herself next to Beth, glare focused on Rachel. "Back off of my friend."

Rachel chuckles at that, but there's no humor in her voice. Only emptiness and entitlement. "It's your friend who should 'back off' of me."

Sarah takes another step forward, widening her stance, closing the distance between her and her target.

"Or what? You'll give her the same shite haircut somebody gave you?"

Rachel practically gasps. Her nostrils flare, and she only needs to lift her chin and lapdog Daniel wedges himself between Rachel and Sarah. He's a little taller than Sarah, but their glares level out in the hallway just fine.

This whole thing is too much of a commotion. Beth glances away for an out and catches the eye of the girl in the pink. They're wide, strikingly clear and honest for someone who seemed so averse to human contact. Beth opens her mouth, and just as quickly as the girl glanced over, the girl drops her gaze back to her book. Beth slams her lips shut.

If only Sarah would do the same.

"You can't just run people down in the halls. Who gave you the right?"

"My father practically wrote the comprehensive guide to magical genetics. Everything we know and ever are to know about how magic courses through our veins, we gained from him." Rachel cocks her head to the side in a motion that's normally inviting; now, it seems like a threat. "What has your family done? Besides create a feral litter of you."

Sarah's fist bunches. "One more word out of you—"

"And you'll hit me." Rachel spreads her arms out like a target. "Go ahead. Prove how low your ilk are."

Sarah lunges at Rachel, fists bared and feet practically slamming back into Beth to give her the leverage she needs. Beth reels back from the kick. Sarah's fist connects somewhere on Rachel's jaw. Helena shrieks in the background. God, Beth can hear her moving forward too. She squeezes her eyes shut. This whole bloody mess is so—

"_Stupefy_!"

Wait, what?

Beth cracks her eyes back open, and everything's just sort of… stopped. Sarah's frozen with her muscles rigid and poised to attack. Rachel's stuck in a scream that has no sound. Even Daniel's caught with his hand stuck in his robes — on a guest for his wand no doubt.

She looks for the source of the curse and finds that the girl in the pink is now standing in the threshold of the other compartment, wand at the ready. Beth's jaw might actually drop a little.

The girl in the pink concentrates on holding them all frozen. Her eyebrows knit, and her lips are in this tight line that makes her look older than her eleven years. She has no tie, no house colors. For all Beth knows, she shouldn't even be able to cast a curse like that without practice. Unless she's been practicing before.

She really is a real witch. (And what a witch she is.)

The spell cracks. Sarah falls down, taking Rachel to the ground with her. Daniel stops reaching for his wand and reaches to free Rachel instead. Helena scrambles down to hoist up Sarah. And Beth just keeps on staring at the girl in the pink who, for a second, stares back.

Beth clears her throat, says, "Uh, thank you. For the curse."

"Don't mention it," the girl says. Her voice is tight, restrained and reserved, but lighter than Beth had expected. The girl bounces a bit on the balls of her feet. "Really, don't. They don't allow magic on the Hogwarts Express. I just, couldn't let you all beat each other to a pulp before our year even begins."

She's getting worked up, isn't she? Her face starts flushing to match her headband, but the words keep tumbling out of her. "We're the next generation of witches. One day, we have to be able to protect not only our families but the entire wizarding world secret, and frankly, I don't think anyone would entrust that with you all when you're acting like a bunch of children!"

She huffs. "Get up!" Everyone does, and they stare at her with their own wide-eyed, open-mouthed bewilderment. "Dust yourselves off, say you're sorry, and use some common sense. We get sorted in a few hours, and we have to give our houses people to be proud of." She must note the blank stares from her fellow first years because her voice lowers and so does her wand. "Just grow up. Please."

Then she steps back into her compartment and slides the door closed as if that whole speech didn't just happen.

The hall's quiet without her. Sarah rubs her sore knuckles. Rachel nurses her pride. Helena's laugh breaks this silence.

"You got lectured on first day," Helena says, laugh growing. Sarah pushes at her shoulder.

"Yeah, well, at least I earned my Gryffindor colors right there. Brave through and through," Sarah boasts.

"More like reckless and idiotic," Rachel drones, "but it's fitting for a future Gryffindor."

Sarah's jaw tenses, but she doesn't attack again. "Thought you didn't get all bitchy until after you became a Slytherin."

"Family trait."

Sarah's hum says she bets it is. Beth sighs and turns to go back into their compartment. Helena follows. Sarah too. The three of them get in while Rachel slides the door to the opposite one. Beth hesitates.

"You —" Rachel motions to the girl in the pink — "Hendrix, am I right?"

The girl lowers her book into her lap and nods once. "Alison," she says. (_Alison_, Beth repeats.)

"My name is Rachel Duncan, and I look forward to getting to know you better. You seem… aware for someone our age."

Alison straightens her spine. "Thank you, but no thank you. I'd rather not associate with someone who uses her name as a weapon."

"Better my name than my fists."

Alison peeks over. Her eyes meet Beth's again. She tells Rachel, "It was a pleasure meeting you. But, if you don't mind," she rises, book in hand, "I have somewhere to be."

She steps around Rachel and Daniel and out of their compartment. A few steps later, and she's walking past Beth to take a seat across from Sarah. Beth and the Mannings just stare again.

Alison clears her throat. "Is this — may I sit with you?"

Beth nods before she can find the words to agree. Sarah finds them, so Beth can focus on sliding their compartment closed and effectively leaving Rachel outside.

"'Course you can. But you gotta show me how you did that curse."

"Oh, it's easy." Alison pulls her wand out of her book. Smiles at each of them. "One of the first spells I learned. We have to know how to protect ourselves, right?"

Sarah chuckles. "Hear that, Beth? Protect ourselves."

Beth grins. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."

"Hmm," Alison licks her lips, "I like the sound of that."

Beth flushes. Nods. Avoids the way Sarah's eyes get that knowing tint to them. "Right. About that spell."

"Of course. So, it's all about the swish and flick."

"Oi, Childs—"

"Shut up, Sarah."


	2. The Sorting Hat

**part two**

.

.

.

Alison sits two rows ahead of them on the boat and doesn't look back once. Her ponytail swishes from side to side every few minutes, kind of like she's shifting to watch the castle come into view. But only in small shifts, not big ones like Helena who practically falls off the bench when someone mentions not getting sorted at all.

Beth figures Alison must not be worried about getting sorted. She probably even has her house tie already packed in her luggage. Though, most of the house colors will clash with the pink headband. Maybe Alison won't wear something too prideful then. Better yet, maybe none of them will.

Maybe they'll be the class of witches and wizards who break the stigma completely and forget about traditions so that they can be who they are with whoever they want to be with. Slytherins and Gryffindors, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, Hufflepuffs and -

Sarah nudges Beth's shoulder. "Could you keep it down? Your worrying's giving me a headache."

Beth averts her eyes to the approaching castle.

"I'm not worrying," she says.

Sarah shakes her head. "Look, we'll all have to adjust once we get over there. It's been fun being just the three of us, but that's gotta change."

Beth scrunches her eyebrows together. "What do you-"

Sarah motions towards Alison, and Beth's eyes go from narrow to wide in an instant. Sarah talks over Beth's rising panic.

"It's fine if you want to make other friends. Right, Helena?"

Helena barely glances over to Beth, which serves Beth well since she can't quite swallow down whatever words keep lodging in her throat.

She knows she should just agree. Voice her appreciation that Sarah and Helena aren't going to turn into possessive jerks who won't share her with anyone else, but honestly, Beth doesn't even know if she wants to be _friends_ with Alison in the first place. She kind of mostly wants to be close to Alison, however that happens, which could mean friendship or something else… maybe?

(Though, what that something else is, or could be, probably needs to be defined, and Beth definitely needs to spend more time thinking about that when she's not surrounded by the people who will taunt and judge her for the next seven years of her life.)

So, Beth sort of nods and trains her eyes back onto the castle in the distance. The longer she stares at Hogwarts, the easier her breathing comes. And the less she stares at Alison.

.

.

The sorting takes places in this huge room — the Great Hall — with all of the first years scrunched up towards the staff area on the opposite side of where they entered. All of the older kids have seats already, but the first years have to stand until after they know which table to go to.

Technically, they're supposed to be all lined up, but Helena's freaking out, and at least half of their class looks ready to vomit all over the floor, so people keep clumping up. Muggleborns tremble together, while kids from wizarding families pretend to be above it all.

"All of the tables stay empty until we're sorted," Helena mumbles. "What if we don't get sorted? I'm not brave enough for Gryffindor. Not ambitious like Slytherin. Not—"

Sarah practically claps her hand over Helena's mouth. "Quit it, Helena." She lowers her hand, then forces a laugh. "Gods, you're thinking so much you might even be a Ravenclaw." She laughs a bit more after she says it, which only makes Helena shrink even further into herself.

"They'll send me back, Sarah." Helena's voice rises. "If I have no house, I go back to S. And S will not be happy with me. She will send me to the convent and-"

"Helena?" It's Alison's voice that cuts through the rambling. Her grin shakes a bit as she steps a little further through the clumps to get towards them. "I don't know you very well, but I'm sure everything will work out."

Helena snorts. She turns sarcastic. "What do you know?"

Alison puffs out her chest a little. Stands taller. "My mother says that outside of head lice, there's absolutely nothing to worry about."

Helena tugs at strands of her blonde hair while Sarah rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, thanks, now she'll be shampooing for hours." Sarah shakes her head. "Freaking people out while you're calming them, sounds pretty un-Gryffindor to me."

Alison's eyes drop down to the floor. Her shoulders cave in. She only wanted to help, and Beth can't exactly stand there and say nothing. Not when Sarah pounces on anyone who unintentionally upsets Helena, or makes a comment on the train.

Beth pipes in, "Oh, what do you know about Gryffindor anyway?"

Sarah scoffs. "More than you. I live with _Hogwarts: A History_ over there."

Helena mutters something about it being a good book, but Alison speaks over her.

"Honestly, as important as they are to some people, houses don't matter for much. Especially not in way of unity," Alison says.

Sarah balks. "You don't like the houses?"

Alison fumbles for her words, glancing from Sarah to Helena and landing on Beth somewhere in between. She shrugs.

"I simply don't think that we should let the words of an enchanted hat decide who we're going to be for the rest of our lives. Or, even, who we should associate with."

This little grin forms on Beth's face. Good, at least one person here won't hold it against her if Beth doesn't become a Gryffindor.

Sarah's going to be pissed at first, and Helena will be glad that she's not alone, but maybe Alison will be glad that they don't have to be fake rivals for years. Hell, Alison might even be there too.

Beth feigns nonchalance. "Spoken like a Hufflepuff."

Alison's face pales. "Oh." She wets her lips and smooths a hand over her bangs. "I didn't — I wasn't intending to —"

"Easy there, Hendrix." Sarah almost looks supportive before her gaze drifts to Rachel Duncan in the sea of future pureblood Slytherin kids. "There are worse things you could be."

Alison follows Sarah's gaze and pushes at her bangs again. "Right." She pulls her hands back down to her side. "I should probably return to my spot in line. The hat's coming out, which means we'll start soon. You all should go too."

She practically speed walks away from them. If she hates them - hates Sarah - how is Beth ever going to get to know her?

Beth rounds on Sarah. "Did you have to make everyone hate you this early? Maybe you're the Slytherin here."

Sarah's whole body goes rigid. Were she a weaker person, she probably would've splintered right at the breastbone.

"You heard Pinky. Time to go."

She tugs Helena further back in line without another glance Beth's way.

Beth stifles a sigh.

Sarah's whole identity is wrapped up in this idea that she has to do something good before the whole world gives up on her. If Sarah got sorted into Slytherin, she'd probably give up on doing good all together. Why try if everyone's going to think she's awful anyway?

She's the same way about Hufflepuff. Only, she calls them the bottomfeeders of Hogwarts, the ones going nowhere because they're too busy helping everyone else and finding ways to keep the peace.

Alison probably thinks like that too. Beth might not know a lot about Hogwarts, but she does know that a lot of pureblood wizarding families look down on Hufflepuff. Even if Alison is peaceful, even if she's loyal or nice, or wants the really awesome dorms by the kitchens, Alison would probably choose something else — anything else — just so her family wouldn't be disappointed.

Now that Beth thinks about it, the wizarding kids should be the ones debating over who they are so they end up where their families want them to be. All the muggle-born kids have to do is get sorted somewhere and prove that they belong. That it wasn't a mistake that they got a letter.

Or more likely, they're all afraid, every single one of them.

From the front of the Great Hall, the Hat starts to sing. Beth scrambles to get to her place in the line. She bumps into a few people, gains a few intrigued stares from the professors all lined up at the tables. This is her moment. Just put on the hat. That's it. Put on the hat, let it decide, and then keep going.

She can do this.

.

.

Seven people have names before Beth's. Seven. Then, it's "Childs, Elizabeth!"

Her shoes squeak on the ground, and her butt almost slips off the stool when she goes to sit. The Hat hums the second it lands on her head.

_Hmm, Elizabeth Childs_, _what to do with you?_ it thinks. _Good goals, good mind. You'd do just about anything you could for your friends, and Gryffindor would only help you grow in that._

Gryffindor? But she doesn't feel like a Gryffindor at all. She's always felt more like a—

_Hufflepuff? You think so? It would suit you just as well. You're loyal almost to a fault. And it wouldn't be a bad thing to have someone with your potential in the burrows._

The Hat hums some more, then yells so loud the whole of the world probably hears, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

All around her, there's a rumble of hands and feet and voices as the Hufflepuff table cheers. Unashamed and unafraid, they welcome her despite the snickering of others nearby. She barely takes more than a few steps their way before someone tugs her over and claps an arm around her shoulder.

She glances up, and there's a guy — strong build, round face, dark skin, badge with perfect written on it — who plops her onto the table and tells her to enjoy the show.

"You're the first of the new recruits, rookie. Welcome to Hufflepuff. Name's Art."

"Well, your parents had a sense of humor," Beth says before she can stop herself.

Art laughs. "Okay, smart ass, for that, you don't get to sit on the table."

"Oh, you're breaking my heart." She swings her legs down and sits on the bench next to him.

Art's face turns serious. "Better me than someone else."

She has that trouble swallowing again. Does he know? How could he already —

He grins. Laughs so hard that another Hufflepuff slaps him so he'll shut up. He waves the person off and bumps Beth with his shoulder.

She forces herself to chuckle. "Yeah, good one."

.

.

Rachel gets sorted into Slytherin. No surprise there. Daniel practically brushes off her seat for her when she heads over to it. There's another seat next to them, and Rachel stares at Alison until Alison glances over.

Beth can't be completely sure, but she swears Rachel mouths, "For you," before Alison looks away.

.

.

"Hendrix, Alison!"

The Hat barely touches her head before it calls out, "Better be… SLYTHERIN!"

Alison's face turns about as green as the house color. She gets off the stool stable enough. Though, her legs wobble a bit on the way to the table.

She sits about as far away from Rachel as she can. Beth tries smiling at her, but she doesn't so much as look up.

.

.

"Manning, Helena!"

Beth scoots over to free some space.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Helena whimpers, and her whole head whips to where Sarah stands in line. She must be mumbling apologies, but Sarah won't hear them. Sarah walks up and tugs Helena off the stool. She pushes Helena forward to the table. Meets Beth's gaze and watches her sister move away from her.

Sarah's a Gryffindor, which surprises no one except maybe Sarah herself, who takes a moment to smile a watery smile before heading to her table.

Helena waits until Sarah sits down to sit next to Beth.

She says, "Sarah will not be happy with me."

Beth shakes her head. "She gets it, Helena. She knew you were going to come over here eventually. I mean, you almost blinded that nun at the day care because she threatened Sarah."

"Could've been brave."

"It was brave, but being brave and courageous, that's not all of who we are."

Helena shrinks even more. "We are not Sarah."

Of course not. While Beth and Helena fidget at their table, Sarah high-fives the kids at hers. Locks eyes with some guy with floppy hair and a plaid collar poking out from under his robes. She adjusts like a freaking chameleon to every situation. They freak out, and she takes a second from her excitement to check on them and mouth, "Take care of her," while Helena's not looking.

Neither of them are Sarah, but being them can't exactly be awful. It's only day one, after all.

So, Beth throws her arm over Helena's shoulders the way Art did with hers. She rocks the two of them side to side. "Want to know the best part about our house?"

Helena answers, "The kitchens?"

Beth shakes her head, shakes them both really. "We're the house elves favorites. They take us on adventures."

"No, they don't."

"They could."

"You are making this up."

"Want to find out?"

"Tonight? With Sarah?"

Art clears his throat. "You two can't go wandering off on your first night. It's against the rules."

Beth shrugs. "Who cares about rules anyway?"

He points to the badge on his robes. What does perfect have to do with anything? She reads the button again. The spelling's wrong. Not perfect —

"Prefect?" Beth says.

Helena hides her face with a groan. "I am sorry. We will not go. We will stay inside like good girls in our rooms. Right, Beth?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "Beth likes joking. About rules. But prefects like rules. Prefects enforce the rules. We will listen."

Beth nods, though she gets about as much of what's going on as she would from a NEWT level Transfiguration class. Art keeps watching them, and he doesn't stop until that Mark kid joins the table twenty minutes later.

When Art stands to greet the guy, Beth leans closer to Helena.

"We'll sneak out tonight." Her eyes drift to Alison, then jump to Sarah. "All of us. I promise."


End file.
